It was my first overnight trip away from my family since – well, since I had gotten a family. I was off to Las Vegas to attend a GoldMine Forum for a few days. I have to admit that the first day was fun. I learned a lot, I hung out with my co-workers, we went to dinner, I watched the Olympics from my bed and went to sleep.
The next day was more of the same and – frankly – I found myself feeling a little lonely. I decided to get out of the casino and take a walk outside. It was clear and cool with a bit of a breeze. Las Vegas is not the greatest location to stargaze; only the full moon was visible in all the lights.
That gave me a thought.
I called home from the parking lot of the Boulder Station casino. Meka answered on the first ring.
“I want you to go outside,” I said.
There was a long pause. “Okay.”
“Look up,” I said. “Do you see the moon?”
“Well, I’m looking at the moon too.” I thought it was romantic. Here we were, a thousand miles away or more, but we could both be together in spirit, looking at the same moon.
“All right,” Meka said flatly. “Is that it?”
This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.
We were still in that gooey afterglow of newlyweds. We still sent each other cards and wrote little smoochy e-mails to one another… even though we were in the same house.
“Well,” I stammered, “I just thought that – you know – we’re apart, but still together looking at the same moon…”
I got a sigh. “It’s ten below zero here,” she said. “I’d feel more romantic if I wasn’t freezing out here on the driveway.” She hung up, leaving me to the moon and a bunch of parked cars in Las Vegas in early February. As I walked back to my room in my short sleeve shirt, it dawned on me that love is blind… and also kind of clueless at times.